


On the Edge of Our Forever

by Rookblonkorules



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, Barbara Gordon is Batgirl, Brotherly Love, Brotherly Relationship, Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Camping trips, Canon-Typical Violence, DaddyBats, Dick Grayson is Robin, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Jason is still alive, Light Angst, Romance, violence (later on)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2019-07-02 22:25:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15805764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rookblonkorules/pseuds/Rookblonkorules
Summary: It started as an exchange between friends. It ended up being so much more than that. Dick and Barbara have always been close, but now... well, now they're wondering if there might be a little something more to their relationship. Dick/Babs





	1. Something More

**Author's Note:**

> “You fall in love with the most unexpected person at the most unexpected time.”  
> “You don’t love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.” -Oscar Wilde

“So if you like the girl, go for the girl,” Wally West said, finishing off the last bits of his hamburger. His fourth. “Ask her out.”

Across the table from him, Dick Grayson hadn’t made it past his third bite. “Spoken by a true ladies’ man.” Dick couldn’t help but grin as he helped himself to another French fry.

Wally shrugged. “Well, it works,” he said, eying Dick’s fries with more than a little desire.

Wordlessly, Dick slid them over. He wasn’t going to eat them all anyway.

Wally’s eyes brightened. “You are a gift,” he told him sincerely.

“Seeing as you and Linda…” Dick began, ignoring Wally’s comment. For the time being anyways. He might see fit to remind him of it sometime later.

“...are six months married,” Wally finished for him, face split in a grin about two sizes too big.

“...are six months married,” Dick finished his own sentence. He grinned as well, taking a French fry (correction: he wasn’t going to eat  _ all _ of them.), “I’d say maybe it does work.”

“Hey!” Wally protested, clutching them closer. “You handed them off! These are mine now!”

“Are you forgetting whose money bought these fries?” Dick asked, taking a bite. He chewed thoughtfully. “You know, I could probably ask Linda for a list on what not to do. I’m sure she has some good ones.”

“Oh, wow. Wow, that hurt, Dick.” Wally clutched at his chest. “That was cold.”

Dick lightly punched him in the arm. “You can’t expect me to believe that Linda went out with you after just one try. You’re not that good.”

“Well… actually, it was three,” Wally confessed. “But, you know, third time’s the charm and all that.”

He popped the second to last French fry into his mouth, and chewed with a very deliberate slowness. He was playing for the dramatic.

Dick rolled his eyes, settling back in the seat. “Wally…” He grabbed his drink, taking a sip.

“Right.” Wally’s eyes lit up with a newly discovered purpose. He pointed the last French fry at Dick. “Back to the problem at hand. Your dating life. Or lack thereof.”

Dick choked on his drink, covering it up with a cough. “Wally!”

“Just telling it like it is. Who’d have thought? Bruce Wayne’s son? Single? At nineteen? I’m sure there were girls lined up when you were fifteen.”

Dick shook his head, amusement and irritation at once warring between him.

“Somehow this isn’t what I had in mind…”   
“But it’s what you got.” 

“...and I  _ really _ don’t think this is helping.”

Wally leaned forward on his elbows. “So… Bruce Wayne has one of those charity balls coming up, doesn’t he?”

Dick raised his eyebrow. “...yes.”

“So ask her.”

“To be there? She already will be.”

“So make it a date.”

“A charity ball’s not a date!” Dick protested. “It’s… it’s an event!”

“So ask her out for coffee,” Wally said, unblinking and without missing a beat, “ _ after _ you take her to the ball.”

Dick dragged out a groan. “I should really talk to Linda, shouldn’t I?”

Wally chuckled. “Your obvious lack of confidence hurts,” he joked, “but don’t forget  _ you  _ were the one who came to  _ me _ for help. And you’re not going to get anything out of Linda, so don’t try that either. She’ll tell you I’m the best thing that ever walked… er, ran into her life.”

Dick smiled, returning his attention to what was left of his hamburger and choosing to ignore the matter of questioning Linda for the time being. “So coffee, huh?”   
“Coffee,” Wally reaffirmed with a nod. “I’m telling you, never doubt coffee shop magic.”

Dick laughed, really laughed, at that. “Coffee shop magic?”

“It’s the truth.” Wally grinned wider and tapped the table. “So… are you gonna do it?”   
“The coffee or the ball?”

“Both.” Wally shook his head, shooting his friend an exasperated glare. “For someone who has to be the heartthrob of at least half of Gotham’s girls…”

“Comes with the territory when you’re the son of a billionaire.” Dick shrugged, flashing his winning smile. The one that (almost) managed to always hide what was going on inside. 

Even so, he felt his cheeks warming slightly. It was true, but not something he was exactly proud of.

He’d dated a few girls in high school, but that had always ended when his date/prospective girlfriend turned out to be simply interested in Wayne money or... something else.

But he didn’t think Barbara was like that. She was his best friend, next to Wally. She had been for years. And he didn’t… he didn’t want to mess that up.

“Dick,” Wally reasons, seriously. “She’s your friend. If anyone’s going to be understanding, it’s…” 

“But that’s just it! We’re  _ friends. _ ” He played with his straw, but didn’t take a sip. “I don’t know if it’s anything more.”   
“So ask,” Wally said bluntly. “You know, it took a long time to work up the nerve to ask Linda out on our first date, and even then, it took me three tries before she was even willing to consider.” He leaned forward earnestly. “I wouldn’t trade Linda for the world,” he said. “You deserve someone who makes you that happy.  And if Barbara’s that girl…” He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.

Dick clenched his eyes shut for the briefest of seconds. When he opened them again, he looked at Wally. “Okay,” he conceded. “I’ll ask her.”

“Good.” Wally broke out into another grin as he leaned back against his seat. “Because otherwise, I might have to insist that you owe me another couple orders of fries. You can’t expect me to do all this work for nothing!” He lowered his voice with a wink. “And speedsters gotta eat!”

Dick sputtered, then broke out laughing. “Oh no, no, you did  _ not  _ just go there!”

 

He was, Dick decided, a coward.

Which was not an adjective usually used to describe someone who dressed in Spandex and jumped off buildings to fight crime. (Suicidal, or harboring a death wish. might come to mind for some, but certainly not coward.)

All the same, that was what he was.

He was meeting Barbara at the Gotham Public Library and he thought, not for the first time, that asking her over the phone would be much easier, but this was… this was going to be special.

He was sure of it.

Which meant he was going to ask her in person. Even if it killed him.

And that would be… death by humiliation.

Yeah, didn’t exactly sound pleasant.

Barbara was already waiting for him. She was nestled in a soft chair, hidden away in a snug little reading alcove.

The only reason he knew to look for her there was because she was always there.

She didn’t notice him right away, giving Dick a chance to collect his thoughts.

Her hair was loosely held back, a few red wisps escaping the hair tie and framing her face. Her legs were crossed and a thick volume, in which she appeared to be thoroughly absorbed, rested in her lap.

Before he had a chance to make himself known, Barbara glanced up, catching sight of him and breaking into a smile that was at once relieved and happy to see him.

His heart did a little thump in his chest.

“Dick!” 

She closed the book, giving Dick a look at the cover. 

_ Moby Dick. _

“Some light reading, huh?” It was the oldest joke in the book (pun  _ definitely _ intended), but her smile widened as she pushed herself up and out of the chair.

“Bette had it for English class,” she explained. “I was lucky. We got Hamlet instead. Still, Bette wasn’t about to let me off the hook that easily and challenged me to read the first three chapters.”   
“And did you?”

Barbara nodded. “I made it to chapter four.” She flashed him a pained grin. “But it’s boring. I do  _ not  _ recommend.”

Dick shrugged. “But at least you get to look sophisticated, right?”   
Barbara scoffed. “Who even saw me reading that book besides you?” Her expression turned sly. “But I might as well check it out, right. Gives me a chance to look  _ sophisticated. _ ”

She tucked the book under her arm, grabbed the crook of Dick’s elbow and began to stir him in the direction of their usual place: the study tables beyond the computer station.

Where, it just so happened, several college students were already seated.

Dick cleared his throat then, holding back and Barbara glanced at him, questioning. 

“Actually, I was hoping maybe we could sit over here this time.” 

It was private here.

And that was the keyword: private.

Barbara glanced over, catching sight of the three and drawing her own conclusions.

“Because of them?” she asked. “They’re not even in our usual spot and it’s not like we’re going to be discussing sensitive  _ case  _ material in the  _ public _ library.”

“No, it’s not that…”

“Dick?” Barbara frowned at him. “Is something going on?”   
“What?” Dick’s brow wrinkled in a desperate bid to appear nonchalant. It didn’t work. At least he didn’t think so. Barbara didn’t seem to think so either. “No… nothing’s going on. I…”   
“Okay,” Barbara said seriously, crossing her arms and trying desperately to hide a smirk, “something’s definitely going on with you. Spill. What’s got you tied up in knots?”

Dick shook his head, slumping his shoulders in defeat. “Not  _ here!” _ he hissed back. Already, this wasn’t going according to plan.

“Fine,” Barbara said. “Then over there.” She indicated his table of choice. “Then you’re telling me.”

Making one last attempt, Dick tried, “What if it doesn’t concern you?”

Barbara gave him a look that said “nice try.” “Because if it didn’t, you wouldn’t be staring at me like that? And that’s for starters.”

Dick sucked in a breath, a crooked little grin in place. “Guilty as charged…”

“A confession. Finally. I like that. So tell me, what’s on your mind, Grayson?”

Dick broke out into a wider smile. “So we’re going for last names now?”

“Dick!”

“Okay, okay.” This was what he was here for… Did he really have to delay?

It was the fear of this changing things still plaguing him, he decided, but… this was Babs. She wouldn’t let it change things, right? Even if she didn’t feel the same way?

He let out a breath. “You’re going to the charity ball… right?”   
“Ye-e-es,” Barbara answered slowly, frowning at him. “You already knew that, though.”

He did already know that. Which meant he was still delaying.

“Do you want...” he was nervous, rubbing his hands together. He shouldn’t be nervous. He needed to get it out before Barbara thought he’d lost it. “I was just… thinking. We could go. Together.” He offered a little smile at the end and tried not to cringe.

It had come out a little more awkward than he’d hoped, but at least it was said.

“Together?”  His heart did a stuttering little hitch in his chest as she processed the words. “You mean like a date?” She sounded confused, maybe a little surprised, but  _ she hadn’t said no. _

“Yeah.” He grinned again, feeling almost giddy. “Yeah, like a date.” He reminded himself that she hadn’t said yes yet, but he resisted the urge to say anything more, letting her decide for herself.

Then she smiled and, in that one instant, Dick decided it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“I think I’d like that,” she said softly. “Why don’t we give it a shot?”

And his heart soared.

 

“So…” Dick shoved his eggs around his plate before finally taking a bite. “I talked to Barbara. Yesterday,” he clarified, after swallowing. 

Don’t speak with your mouth full. That was the sacred, unbreakable mealtime rule at Wayne Manor and Alfred enforced it with an iron fist.

He was the only one at the table. Jason was still upstairs, packing for school, something he’d neglected to do last night.

Bruce was still in the cave. “Business,” as usual, came before eating, though Dick was sure Alfred would be bringing him down a plate of breakfast.

Even if more than half the time Bruce forgot to eat it, that was a task Alfred was sure never to shirk.

Alfred’s reaction was limited to a perfectly schooled arched eyebrow, because Dick  _ always _ talked to Barbara. “Oh?” he asked, setting a tray of pancakes on the table… even though Dick was currently the only one present to eat them. “I trust all is well.”

“Yeah,” Dick said, nodding a little too vigorously. He was happy. Really happy. “Yeah, it’s all good.” He wondered if his happiness was shining through. “I asked her to come with me. To the charity ball. She said yes.”

_ Calm down, Grayson. She agreed to go out with you, not marry you. _

He forced himself to take another bite of eggs, and helped himself to several pancakes, liberally dribbling syrup over them.

“That’s wonderful.” Alfred smiled at the young man sitting before him fondly. “Though I can’t help but think that it’s about time.”

“About time for what?” Jason’s voice cut in. The younger boy made a beeline for the table, grabbing one of the plates and digging the spooning several scoops of eggs onto his plate.

Alfred cleared his throat. “Table manners, Master Jason.”   
“Oh.” Jason stopped sheepishly. Alfred took his plate from him and finished serving the boy himself. “Sorry.” 

Jason had never quite gotten used to there being  _ enough _ food after having been so long on the street.

“Quite alright, young sir. We all make mistakes sometimes.” His eyes twinkled as he said so, setting the plate down before him.

Dick wordlessly scooted the pancake platter closer to him and Jason speared up three, stacking them on his plate next to the eggs.

Alfred had filled up the third plate, and was leaving now, announcing that he was bringing something down to Bruce before the man starved himself down amongst the bats.

Jason acknowledged him with a nod, much more interested in grabbing the syrup.

“So what’s about time?” Jason asked again, pouring syrup over the warm stack.

Dick grinned, in the mood to be teasing. “That’s something for you to find out.”

Jason stared at him a moment longer, but, apparently not interested enough to continue, he shrugged and returned his attention to his food. “It’d better not be something weird,” he muttered, before taking a mouthful of pancake. He didn’t speak after that, though, because while he might not have been used to the sheer  _ amount  _ of food, he too learned very quickly that there was no speaking with one’s mouth full.

A small (irrational) part of him was offended that Jason didn’t take any more interest, but the larger portion of himself was content keeping it to himself for the time being (with the exception being Alfred and, a little obviously, Bruce, who would no doubt find out, whether Dick told him or not).

Besides Jason was at the age where he’d likely just say, “ew, love,” and move on with his life.

“It’s not something you’d find very interesting anyways,” Dick added, more as an afterthought.

Jason shot him a sharp look. “Who says anything about you is interesting?”

Dick just grinned. “Good point.”

 

It was a little after breakfast, and after Alfred had already left to deliver Jason to school, that Dick received Wally’s call.

He answered on the second ring. 

“Did you ask her?” Wally didn’t give Dick a chance to answer before he was speaking.

Dick raised an eyebrow, but it wasn’t like Wally could see it. “A little ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?” he asked. He didn’t give Wally a chance to respond to that. “She said yes.”   
He could have sworn he heard Wally cheer softly (and it conjured up a mental image of Wally pumping his fist in the air), but his friend was speaking again, “Good for you, dude.” He could almost hear the smirk through the phone. “Don’t forget to take her out for coffee later, okay? Remember coffee shop magic.”

“One step at a time, Wally.” Dick couldn’t help the chuckle that came with it. “Will you and Linda be there?”

“Unfortunately not,” Wally answered. “But I have sources who will be, so you better be telling the truth, got that?”

“Of course I’m telling the truth.” The rest of what Wally said clicked. “Wait, source? You have a source? What source?”

“Nuh uh, that would be telling.” He could almost picture Wally wagging his finger. The image was at once infuriating and amusing.

“Wally…” Dick began, but Wally didn’t let him continue.

“Uh oh, wait, I think I hear Linda calling me.”

“Wally…” Dick said again, annoyed. That was the oldest trick in the book! Did he really think... ? “Do you really think…”

“Good luck at the dance, dude, but, uh, Linda really is calling me,” Wally said hastily. There was a click indicating the call had been disconnected.

Dick blinked, staring at the phone in his hand, speechless, before sliding it into his pocket.

Sometimes being friends with Wally West could be the most exasperating thing in the world.

“You look like a ray of sunshine this morning,” Jim Gordon commented into his cup of coffee.

“Hmmm?” Barbara hummed as she dug through the cabinets for a bowl. Choosing one, she grabbed a box of cereal and poured. 

She was still barefoot and in her pajamas, pink shorts and a white and blue T-Shirt with the words  _ Gotham City University  _ printed across the chest in block letters.

“So what’s his name?” 

Barbara had her father’s full attention now. He’d put the paper down and was looking at her with the warm, almost-smile that made her heart do a little leap.

She grinned a little playfully. “What makes you think there’s a boy involved?” she asked.

“Because I know that look,” Jim said, taking another sip of coffee. “It’s not like I haven’t seen a lovestruck girl before.”   
“Well,” Barbara leaned against the counter, “It’s just that I happen to be your only daughter, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never  _ been _ in love before, so it does make me question where you got your information.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Believe me, down at the station, I’ve seen plenty of young girls who claim they did what they did because of some love or another.”

Barbara scoffed in mock offense. “And you’re comparing me to one of them? I thought you were better than that.”

“Of course not.” He’d set his coffee mug down. “But they all got the same dreamy expression you had when you waltzed in here.”   
Barbara laughed. “‘Waltz?’ Dad, I don’t waltz.”

Jim didn’t bat an eye. “You did just then.” He started to pick up his paper. “So are you going to tell me who it is or…?”

“It’s Dick,” Barbara blurted. She had never kept secrets from her father for long. Well… unless you counted the whole Batgirl thing, but she was pretty sure he already knew about that and just hadn’t brought it up.

If he was leaving her to stew, then she _ really _ didn’t appreciate it, but it wasn’t like she could do anything about it.

She would have brought it up on her own eventually, just to see what he knew, but she just… didn’t know how to broach that subject without inadvertently revealing something he  _ didn’t  _ know. 

Her father lowered the paper. “Dick?” he asked for clarification.

Barbara nodded, wondering if something was wrong. He liked Dick. He always had. She didn’t think it should bother him. 

“He asked me if I would go to the dance with him.” When her dad didn’t say anything, she continued, “You know, the charity ball Bruce Wayne is hosting? You’re attending?” She opened the fridge and grabbed a carton of milk, and closing the door again with her hip. She faced him again. “Is something wrong?”   
Slowly, he shook his head and, with some relief, she noted that the small smile was still present. “No, it’s just…  I shouldn’t be surprised with all the time you two spend together.”

_ Both in and out of costume _ , Barbara added silently. And it was true. Maybe it shouldn’t be surprising to see something come out of this, but… boys and girls were friends all the time and that didn’t necessarily mean an attraction would come of it.

Realizing her dad hadn’t said anything more, Barbara cleared her throat. “So,” she asked, making an attempt to sound casual, even though her heart was hammering away in her chest, “you’re okay with it?”

“Honey,” he shook his head, “if he makes  _ you _ happy that I couldn’t be more okay with it.”

Barbara smiled. A tension in her chest she hadn’t been aware of faded. “Thanks, Dad,” she said. “It’s… it’s only a first date…” she continued, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and feeling suddenly very self-conscious, “but I… I think it’s going to work.”

  
  



	2. The Ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long. I forgot that this was just sitting on my laptop.  
> Also, for the sake of this story, Barbara is about 18 and getting ready for college and Dick is around 17. That puts Jason at 13 here. Those ages might be a bit off from canon, but it's what I'm going with here.

Jason watched as Dick straightened his tie for what must have been the tenth time.  
“She’s not going to care if it’s a little crooked,” he finally said.  
“Oh, she won’t,” Dick assured him, giving himself a scrutinizing look over in the mirror. Barbara would probably find it endearing, “but Alfred certainly will.”  
Jason was right, because Barbara most likely wouldn’t care. And Dick was right, because Alfred most certainly would.  
But there was also that part of him that wanted this to be perfect. And somehow, right now, that boiled down to his tie being what Alfred called “presentable,” but what the rest of the world called “outrageously perfectionist.”  
Jason tilted his head sideways, grinning with a spark of mischief. “Yeah, you’re right. I’d be more worried about my hair if I were you.”  
Dick frowned at him. “What are you talking about? My hair is fine!” He took a glance in the mirror, just to be sure.  
Such an action didn’t go unnoticed by his impish pseudo-little brother and Jason cackled, clearly taking it as a sign of victory.  
“It won’t be in a second.”  
“Oh no, don’t you dare…” Dick lifted his hands as if to cover his hair, something that sent Jason into another bout of laughter.   
“And don’t forget you’re going too,” Dick reminded him. “I’m not the only one Alfred’s going to kill if we’re messed up.”  
Jason shrugged, hiding whatever chagrin he felt at being forced to attend masterfully. “But I don’t have a date,” he said, slyly.  
“Somehow, I don’t think that will make a difference when Alfred makes his inspection.”  
“Are you going to take the car?” Jason asked suddenly and Dick knew where he was going. He’d wanted to drive himself, to pick Babs up himself, because what boy doesn’t when it comes to the girl he’s fallen head over heels for?  
“Alfred’s going to be driving the limousine,” Dick said, because of course Bruce, in his all-knowing, over-protective parental mode, wasn’t about to let Dick take one of the cars out.  
Jason smirked. “He doesn’t trust you.”  
“I think it’s less about trust and more about…”  
“Trust?” Jason asked, wagging an eyebrow.  
“Shut up!” Dick laughed, tossing a wadded up sock at him.  
Jason dodged too late and the sock hit him in the side of the head.  
“It’s this room,” Jason said, laughing too. “Bruce probably knows his cars would all end up looking like this if he let you anywhere near them.”  
“Hey!” Dick protested. “It’s not like your room is any better!”  
“Well…” he shrugged, “I’m not driving.”  
“At least I can drive.”  
“Could drive,” Jason corrected, “if Bruce would let you near the cars.”  
“He does let me near the cars.” Dick furrowed his eyebrows and then amended, “When he’s with me.”  
“See?” Jason said. “It’s trust issues.”  
“Right.” Dick rolled his eyes. “And you’d know all about trust issues, wouldn’t you?”  
Then he realized what he’d just said. The first few months at the Manor, Jason had had trouble accepting that they weren’t like anyone else he’d ever encountered during his young life. It was a sore spot. One he really never wanted to bring up. “Jas…” Dick hastened to apologize, but Jason didn’t seem hurt.   
He didn’t even seem offended.  
“I guess it takes one to know one.” Jason winked.   
“Ha, ha, and also ha,” Dick said, relieved his momentary slip up hadn’t resulted in something borderline catastrophic (because Jason was… he was intense. You could never be sure what results you were going to get. He could either brush it off or leave you wondering if you’d just started World War III). He angled his head to better glare at his pseudo little brother. “Are you finished yet?”  
Jason seemed to think it over. Then he nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m finished.”  
“Good.” Dick turned away from the mirror and Jason tapped his knees, leaning forward in the chair.  
“Are you finished primping?”  
“I wasn’t primping!”  
“Sure looked like primping to me.” Jason shook his head. “But if it wasn’t, what would you call it?”  
Dick grit his teeth. Jason somehow knew how to push exactly the right buttons that he fell just short of “infuriating” while managing to rise far above the levels of simply “annoying.” “I thought you said you were done.”  
“Master Richard, Master Jason?” Alfred’s voice sounded just outside the door. “I trust you two are ready?”  
“Definitely ready!” Dick called. He shot a glance at Jason’s shoeless feet.  
Jason flashed a guilty grin as Alfred bustled in. He cast one look at the boy’s feet and shook his head in exasperated silence.  
“There is an hour before the guests are set to arrive,” Alfred told him. “I expect you to be ready by the time we arrive back.”  
“I wouldn’t mind missing out on one ball.” Jason crossed his arms.  
Alfred eyed him disapprovingly. “And if I threatened to revoke dessert privileges for a week?”  
Jason saluted. “Got your message loud and clear.”

 

 

“You look gorgeous, Sweetheart.” Jim Gordon appraised his daughter critically.  
Barbara looked down at herself, getting used to the feel of the long skirt sweeping around her ankles. She’d gone for a deep green, ankle-length but simple gown. “Thanks, Dad.” Barbara lifted the skirt a little higher, allowing her to walk with a bit more comfort. This was different-really different- from her usual entourage of jeans and a T-Shirt. At least she wasn’t required to wear heels.  
‘One of these days,” she muttered, “there’s going to be a Blue Jeans Ball. Not a dress in sight.”  
“Then it will be a party,” Jim looked amused, “not a ball.”  
“I’ll make it a ball.” She tilted her head. “You’re coming, right?”  
Dick had already told her that he and Alfred would be picking her up and driving her to the Manor themselves, which was… weird… but nice. Definitely nice.  
She’d assumed her father would be showing up as well, but he hadn’t changed out of his work clothes.  
“Actually, honey,” he looked regretful, “I have to go back in to work. The Caleb Dinozzo case.”  
“Oh. I thought that was being handled.” By someone other than you.   
Her dad already had enough on his plate. Wasn’t there someone to pick up the slack when he needed a break?  
He sighed, stretching out his legs. “Turns out they need me there to oversee a few things. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ll be much happier without your old man crashing your date,” he added, trying to ease the sting.  
“It’s not really going to be private,” Barbara pointed out, pretending it didn’t matter. “There are going to be people everywhere and it’s… it’s…” She stopped herself. This was about her and Dick. She wasn’t going to be angry or disappointed with her father over matters that were beyond his control.  
“I wanted to see you off at least,” he said.  
She offered a weak smile. “It’s okay. Really. Gotham needs saving.” She leaned in to give him a hug. “Though I’m sure the Batman’s got a lot of that covered,” she couldn’t resist adding.  
“Hey, now,” her father joked, “the Gotham PD has to fight its own battles once in a while or we’d lose the public’s respect.”  
The doorbell rang. Barbara gave her dad one last squeeze. “Wrap up that case for me, okay Dad?”  
“Will do, sweetheart.” He stood, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “And I better not read about this in the paper tomorrow, got it? Else you’ll be grounded for the next year.”  
Barbara stumbled back, a blush heating up her cheeks. “Dad!” she exclaimed, mortified.  
“I’m teasing. I trust you, otherwise you wouldn’t be going.” He looked at her seriously, before his expression lightened. “Don’t keep your date waiting.”

 

Dick couldn’t keep himself from fingering his tie as he waited for the door to open.   
He heard voices from inside. One was definitely Barbara’s. He heard her laugh, the sound originating closer to the door than before and he forced his palms down to his side.  
The door opened and then Barbara was there. She was breathtaking, his breath literally catching in his throat.  
She was wearing a green gown that carried a simple elegance. She’d left her hair down and it curled softly around her shoulders.  
It was-she was-beautiful.  
“Dick?” Barbara looked a little amused. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her lips.  
Dick realized his mouth at dropped open. He closed it quickly. “Babs, wow, you look… you look great.”  
Her smile widened. Why did it seem like her smile could light up the whole world? Was that new or was he only just noticing it now?  
“So do you.”  
“Yeah, well.” He tugged at his tie again and flashed her that grin he always used. “Turns out it’s tenth times the charm.”  
She laughed. “Ever the fashion disaster, Dick Grayson.”  
“Hey, I think we’d make for a handsome couple, don’t you?”  
“Gotham’s celebrity couple? I don’t think I’d go that far.”  
“Now you’re putting words in my mouth.”   
Dick reminded himself that Alfred was waiting. He was in the car outside, waiting for them.  
He expected them to come out any second now.  
But this moment seemed perfect. He suddenly didn’t want it to end.  
Which was odd, because they were just standing here, divided by a threshold.  
Besides, any one of the Gordons’ neighbors could choose this moment to walk out of their apartments and that, well, that would just be awkward.  
“Dick?”  
Jim Gordon materialized at the door behind his daughter.  
Dick blinked. What was he doing here? he wondered somewhat stupidly.  
But the answer was an obvious one: he lived here and he was coming to wish his daughter a good night.  
Gordon moved so that he was next to Barbara, extending his hand for Dick to shake. Dick did so, wrinkling his brow in confusion.  
This was... oddly formal. Especially since Dick had spent enough time here as a child for Jim Gordon to become an uncle of sorts.  
Barbara sidestepped, giving her dad more room, and the look she gave Dick was pained, apologetic.  
The look Dick returned to her was questioning, confused… and more than a little apprehensive.  
Is something wrong? he asked mentally.  
Jim Gordon ignored both looks. “Have a good time, you two.” He smiled, warm and open as always. Dick heard what he was saying beneath it. Take care of my daughter.  
“We will.” He allowed himself an easy smile. I will.  
After a moment’s pause, Gordon clapped him on the shoulder. “I know,” he said, and he backed away.  
It took Dick a moment before he said, “You’re not going?” It came as a shock of sorts.   
Gordon shook his head. “Work,” he said simply. “There’s a case that needs my attention. Just wanted a chance to see you both off before heading in to work.”  
Barbara smiled a little awkwardly. “It’s appreciated,” she said, taking Dick’s arm.  
Jim shook his head, the action nothing but fond. “Go have fun,” he said, moving to shut the door, presumably as he went to prepare himself before heading off to work. Or maybe he just wanted to give them some privacy to walk out. And then he would leave.  
He gave Barbara one last look. “And don’t forget what I said, okay?”  
Then the door was shut.  
Dick glanced back at the door and then at Barbara. “What he said?”  
Barbara laughed, feeling the heat rising to her cheeks. “Something about not showing up in any newspapers he reads.”  
“Oh.” Dick shot another look at the apartment door. “Well, there usually are reporters there. But their attention is going to be focused on Bruce. I don’t think we have to worry about anything.”  
Barbara tilted her head. “The son of Bruce Wayne is always going to be news. Adopted or not. I hated to break it to you.”  
“Something tells me Jason is more newsworthy.” Dick cracked a grin.   
Barbara raised her eyebrows good-naturedly. “Is that your plan then? Have Jason distract them with a few good, old-fashioned antics?”  
Dick laughed. “I’m actually certain Alfred threatened to ground him if any such antics occurred, but sure?” 

 

An event held at Wayne Manor was always an impressive sight to behold.  
Tonight was no exception.  
She leaned in, drinking up the sight of a magnificent sculpture of a swan located in the center of the ball room. It was lovely, but she didn’t think it was going to last. “Did Bruce seriously go for an ice sculpture? Won’t that melt?”  
Dick leaned closer and winked. “He pulled the eccentric billionaire card. You know many people who’d argue with Bruce Wayne when he’s got his mind set on something?”  
Covering her mouth to hold back a peal of laughter, Barbara shook her head. “No.”  
“Me neither,” Dick said. He took her hand, leading her. “Shall we dance? It’s what we came here for.”  
“No,” Barbara corrected him. “We came here for a good time. Together.” She eyed the dance floor, the swaying couples moving back and forth, with more than a little skepticism and reluctance. She’d taken a few classes, sure, but Barbara Gordon had never had much enthusiasm for dancing. “They never covered ballroom dancing in ballet class. Or Gymnastics.”   
Still, she allowed him to lead her onto the floor.  
“Ballroom dancing isn’t exactly my forte either.” He winked at her. “But I think maybe it goes something like this.”  
He brought a hand down to her waist, holding one of hers in his other. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I think everyone knows how it’s done on TV.”   
Dick smirked. “I’m pretty sure it’s the same on every dance floor.”  
“Okay, fine, boy genius. Let’s show ‘em how it’s done then.”  
She fell into step with him, swaying to the music.  
“You know what I think?” Dick leaned forward to whisper in her ear.  
“What?” she whispered back.  
“I think all that talk about ballet class was just rubbish. You’re doing fine.”  
“We’re not doing anything!” Barbara protested. She giggled.   
The song changed and they broke apart.  
“So you’ve had enough of dancing already?” he teased.  
“Of course not!”  
She took his hand and they came together again. “Why would I be tired of this?” she asked and smiled. “It’s nice.”  
“But not exactly as interesting as when we spiked the punch bowl?”  
“Not exactly.” And then she groaned, leaning her head against Dick’s shoulder. “Did you have to bring that up? I have a reputation to uphold! Nice, boring librarians do not spike punch bowls at a billionaire's gala.”  
“Sorry? But in our defense, we were twelve and we miscalculated the dosage. It wasn’t enough.”  
“And thank goodness for that.” Barbara shook her head. “I waited two years to tell my dad and he was still ready to kill me.”  
Dick laughed. “Bruce found out,” he said. “Which isn’t a surprise. I really don’t think you can hide anything from him. I did think he was going to ground me for life though. Actually, you know who was really terrifying that night? It was Alfred.” He shook his head, amused at the memory. “He doesn’t yell, he doesn’t even raise his voice. He just gives you this… this stare. Like he can see right through you. And you just… you know you’ve screwed up. Big time.”  
Barbara brought a hand to cover her mouth, hiding a laugh. “You know what? I can totally see that.” She smirked. “Beware the butler and all that.”  
“Shhh.” Dick held up a finger. “He has ears everywhere, remember?”  
Now, Barbara really did laugh. She remembered their first few sleepovers, the times they would try and fail to accomplish something without Batman’s trusty butler catching on.  
The couple nearest them shot them a look, but she paid them no heed.  
This was their moment.  
“Guess there’s no one quite like Alfred,” she said.  
“Nope,” Dick agreed good-naturedly. “Come on,” he took her hand, tugging her away from the dancing couples, “let’s get something to eat.”  
“Excuse me?” Barbara followed after him. “What happened to dancing the night away?”  
“Now when did I ever say we’d be doing that?” He glanced around the ballroom. “Do you see Jason anywhere? Alfred made him promise not to get into any trouble.”  
Barbara scanned the room. Sparkling dresses and three-piece suits were everywhere, but no fourteen year old boys looking for trouble. “He’s probably hiding,” she said.  
Wayne Charity Balls were really no place for a young teenage boy, but, being the children of the host, who just so happened to be the most famous person in Gotham City, both Dick and Jason had been required to attend his events.  
There weren’t very many people hovering around the refreshments, which was unusual to say the least.   
Around five women who appeared to be in their mid to late thirties were grouped around the chocolate fountain, engaged in sharing whatever high society gossip had caught their interest among themselves.  
A few older men meandered nearby, but most seemed to be occupied on the dance floor, or involved in idle chatter elsewhere.  
Barbara had expected at the very least to find Jason there.  
He wasn’t.  
She guessed he really must have been hiding.  
“Well, if he’s really determined, he’s not going to be found,” Barbara commented with an idle shrug.   
“Yeah.” Dick agreed with her, but he sounded a little… distracted. Barbara turned her head. He was staring off into the crowd, brows crinkled thoughtfully. “Is that… Clark?” he asked.  
Barbara followed his eyes and caught sight of a familiar pair of glasses.   
Superman. The Man of Steel.   
Known to the rest of the world as Clark Kent, mild-mannered reporter for the Daily Planet.  
Frowning, she looked back at Dick. “Dick, he’s a reporter. This is an event held by Bruce Wayne. I’m sure there are reporters from at least twenty different papers here. Why wouldn’t he be here?”  
Dick snapped out of it, flashing her a sheepish little grin. “Nothing. I was just a little caught off guard. That’s it.” Dick narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Maybe we should talk to him?”  
“About what?” Barbara asked, hand on his arm again, any idea of dessert forgotten. “Let’s just enjoy ourselves, okay?” She inclined her head back towards the dance floor. “I like this song.”  
Dick’s eyes were on her again. “Okay.” And then he smiled teasingly. “I thought you didn’t want to dance.”  
Barbara swatted his arm playfully and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Shut up, Teen Wonder,” she murmured.  
It was going to be a wonderful night. That she could be sure of.


	3. Little Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have no excuse for this taking as long as it did to update. It's been on fanfiction.net for... a long time.

It was still fairly early when Barbara finally returned home. 11:00. An hour till midnight.  
Which might be late for some people, but for someone who routinely returned home at four in the morning after spending her nights dressed as a bat or working late on a homework assignment, the night was still far too young.  
Her father hadn’t returned home yet and she’d rejected Dick’s offer to wait with her until he did, even though a late night movie did sound appealing.  
Still, it wouldn’t be fair to make Alfred wait and her father might have approved of the dance, but the house rule was still no boys overnight till you’re married.   
Barbara dumped at least half a cup of mini marshmallows into the hot chocolate she’d microwaved. So maybe it was a little excessive, but she could afford the extra calories, she decided, as she plopped down in a chair, mug in one hand, book in the other.  
Especially considering her nighttime activities.  
It was Ivanhoe, a classic she’d been required to read high school, and something definitely more readable than Moby Dick.  
She took a sip, and immediately regretted it. The hot chocolate was scalding! She choked, coughed, and ended up spitting her mouthful back into the cup.  
Frowning, she placed the cup on the bookshelf to her right, intending to let it sit there until it was cool enough to drink.   
Her tongue was still burning, but it would stop eventually. She hadn’t taken that large of a sip, fortunately.  
Barbara flipped the book open to her previous place, but found she couldn’t concentrate on the words for enough time to appreciate the story.   
Her mind was elsewhere.  
Dick had always been an amazing friend. Her best friend. And she knew that while she shared the position of being Dick’s best friend with Wally West, what she and Dick had had always been special.  
And now… she wondered if it was becoming something even more special.  
There was no doubt in her mind that she loved Dick. It had just never occurred to her that it might be something other than the platonic love between friends.  
She groaned, forgetting the book, and burying her face in her hands.  
It was far too early to determine that, wasn’t it?  
“Did it really go that bad, Babs, honey?”  
Barbara’s head shot up.  
She hadn’t heard her dad come in. He looked tired, more so than when he had left, but his attention was completely on her.  
“What?” she asked, not sure she’d heard him correctly.  
Jim tossed his coat on the hook and said, “I asked if the date really went that badly, honey.”  
“What?” She blinked, slightly surprised at the question, but he must have seen her posture and assumed she was moping at the end of a date gone wrong. “No. No, just the opposite.” She smiled. “We had a great time. And,” she hurried to reassure him before he could ask the next question, “no, we didn’t do anything to get ourselves featured on the front page.”  
Her father chuckled. “Good. ‘Cause that’s the last thing anyone needs. More publicity.”  
Barbara laughed. “Tell that to Bruce Wayne,” she said.  
Jim tipped his head, acknowledging her point. “But the last thing any father wants,” he continued, “is his daughter’s face splashed across every tabloid magazine in Gotham City.”  
“Does this mean you disapprove?” Barbara leaned forward.  
“No, not at all.” Jim lowered himself into the worn couch across from her. “If he seems like the right one, then I couldn’t be happier for you.”  
Barbara smiled, relaxing. “Thanks, Dad.”  
Jim leaned back. “Don’t you think I remember falling in love once too?” He shook his head, fondness at the old memories temporarily taking over his features. “Your mother was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”  
He sighed, a flash of pain appearing on his face before it was gone. He eyed her mug on the shelf. “Now why don’t you be a dear and make your old man some coco?”   
Barbara smiled, rising from her chair. She crossed the room only to plant a kiss on her father’s forehead. “Sure, Dad.”

 

“I noticed you and Barbara at the Gala tonight.”  
Dick froze when Bruce’s voice caught up with him. He had been intending to creep by him unnoticed, wondering if Clark was the “spy” Wally had mentioned, but he should have known better.  
Nothing crept past the Batman unseen.  
“Uh… yeah.” Dick turned around to face his adoptive father. “I asked her.”  
He searched Bruce’s face, and was surprised to see no disapproval present.   
“You’re okay with that?”  
“Did I ever say you weren’t allowed to date?” Bruce seemed genuinely surprised. “You’re eighteen, Dick . I want you to have a life.”  
“Well, no,” Dick answered Bruce’s question, “but, you know, the whole,” he dropped his tone, in an imitation of the Batman’s trademark voice, “‘no dating, only justice’ line?”  
Bruce’s brow crinkled. “What?”  
“I…” Dick felt his face heating up. He shook his head. “You know what, never mind.”  
He turned to jog his way the rest of the distance to the top of the staircase.  
“Wait.” Bruce caught his elbow and, when Dick turned around, he found him to be completely serious. “I’m happy for you, Dick. I mean it.”  
Dick was sure his face must have showed his surprise when Bruce continued, rather drily, “You don’t think I’m that much of an ass, do you?”  
Dick pretended to think it over. “We-e-ell,” he drew the word out, “now that I think about it…”  
Bruce snorted, amused. “It wasn’t meant to be answered, Dick.”  
“Oh, well, that changes things, now doesn’t it?” Dick grinned.  
“I’m serious, Dick,” Bruce said, though a small, almost nonexistent smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I’m happy for you. I… know how hard it is to bring someone into this life.” He gave a wry smile. “Speaking as someone with quite a number of failed relationships under my belt.”  
“Uh… right.” Dick blinked. Then tried to crack a joke, something to ease the awkwardness of the conversation. “That famous Wayne charm stop working out for you or something, huh?”  
Bruce blinked. Then he smiled, somewhat apologetically. “Not exactly. I’d say I’ve still got some things going for me. But that’s not what this is about. It’s the secrecy. I… my life as Bruce Wayne. What the media sees Bruce Wayne as-someone who can’t last a week without dumping his current girlfriend. I don’t want that for you. I want you to find someone you can be happy with. Someone you can be you with. Not some just some farce, but you.”  
Dick fidgeted, his hand on the staircase railing. “I know,” he said. Dick paused, trying to find a correct way to phrase his next bit. “Is that why you’re okay with Barbara and I? Because there doesn’t have to be any secrecy?”  
“Maybe that’s part of it,” Bruce admitted. “But what’s more important to me is your happiness, Dick. And I know how much you care about her Dick.”  
Dick colored faintly. “...oh.”  
Bruce smirked, an expression oddly alien on his usually stoic features. “You haven’t exactly been that discreet about it,” he said. “I’ve suspected for a while.”  
“Oh…” Dick felt his shoulders rise and fall. “They don’t call you the World’s Greatest Detective for nothing then.”  
He shouldn’t be embarrassed about being found out by the Batman.  
Bruce chuckled. “They don’t,” he acknowledged.  
He really couldn’t bring himself to be surprised either.

 

Jason was in his room. And on his bed too.   
His feet were pointed towards the headboard, his head nearly dangling off the edge, as he focused on whatever handheld game system he was currently involved in.  
“Um…” Dick stopped short. “Jay, what are you doing in here?”  
“Waiting for you.” Jason tilted his head back so that he was looking Dick straight in the eye. “What’s it look like?”  
“It looks like you’re in my room. Without my permission, might I add,” Dick said. “Playing video games.”  
Jason shut the device and rolled over onto his stomach.  
“So how’d it go?”  
“I didn’t see you anywhere.”  
Jason waved him off with a wicked grin. “Found a place to hide. Now how’d it go?”  
“Place to hide? Does Alfred know about this?” Dick couldn’t help but grin as well.   
“You’re changing the subject.” Jason sat up, tucking his knees underneath himself. “Is it because something went wrong? You don’t want to embarrass yourself?”  
“No. Nothing went wrong, Jay.” He cocked his head. “Since when did you want to listen to love stuff?”  
Jason made a face. “But you’re not going to talk about any of that stuff, are you?” he asked. “You’re avoiding the question. Does that mean she ditched you?”  
“She didn’t ditch me!” Dick sounded offended and Jason looked thrilled. Dick sighed, took a deep breath, and then repeated, “She didn’t ditch me.” And then he grinned mischievously. “In fact, things might have gone so well…”  
Jason stopped him. “You guys did not kiss,” he said, nose wrinkling, “so don’t even go there.”  
“Does that mean you were spying on us?” Dick laughed, lunging for the kid. “You little rat!”  
Jason dodged, scurrying off the bed. He’d made it halfway to the door when Dick caught him, arms wrapping around his torso, and tackled them both to the ground.  
“Dick, get off!” Jason managed, laughter making his sides ache. He squirmed, trying to roll onto his back.   
At least then he might be able to use his feet to shove Dick off of him.  
“Not a chance!” Dick maneuvered him into a headlock.   
“Dick, no!” Realizing where this was going, Jason tried to duck his head down, out of the way, but he was trapped.  
“There’s no escaping, Little Wing.” He formed a fist, bringing it to the top of Jason’s head, and rubbing vigorously.   
“Stop!” Jason gasped in between giggles. “Dick, seriously!”  
“You asked for this!”  
“My word!” At Alfred’s exclamation, their heads snapped up. The butler stood in the doorway, watching them with something of a fond amusement.   
“Hey, Alfred!” Dick kept his hold on Jason, despite the boy’s attempts to get away. “What’s up?”  
Alfred barely raised an eyebrow. “I was merely coming to see that you two were on your way to bed.” He looked from one to the other. “But as it stands, I am simply relieved to find that the both of you still draw breath.”  
“He won’t for much longer,” Jason threatened, jerking against Dick’s arm.  
“Hey, hey, hey,” Dick scolded. “Are you really in a position to make threats, Jason? I’m pretty sure I have all the leverage here.”  
“No one is going to be killing anyone here,” Alfred said with finality. “Family rules, I’m afraid. Master Richard, as entertaining as this is, I’m afraid I must ask you to release Master Jason.”  
Dick groaned in mock disappointment, but let Jason go per Alfred’s request.  
Jason rubbed his neck and glowered darkly at him.  
Dick was sure it was only Alfred’s presence that kept the boy from seeking vengeance.   
“Master Jason,” Alfred said, sternly, but not unkindly, “it’s been a long day and it’s high time you headed off to bed.”  
“But…” Jason dropped the protest before it really even began.   
One simply didn’t argue with Alfred and get away with it.  
Hell, even Bruce knew better than to question Alfred the majority of times.  
Dick grinned innocently as Alfred’s eyes found him. “Was just about to hit the sack, Alf,” he promised.  
Alfred gave a non-convinced ‘hmph.’ “See to it that you do, Master Richard,” he said. “Even vigilantes need their rest. At least once every blue moon.”


	4. Coffee Shop Magic

Dick tapped his fingers against the table as he perused the coffee shop’s menu. 

Barbara wasn’t here yet. Their date hadn’t been set for-he glanced at his watch-another ten minutes.

“Can I help you?” Dick glanced up at the pretty girl in a waitress uniform hovering next to him, pad and pencil in hand. He glanced at her nametag.  _ Becky. _

He shook his head. “I’m waiting for someone,” he told her.

“Ah.” Her eyebrows went up knowingly and she gave him a conspiratorial smile and wink. “Just between you and me then, sir, you couldn’t have picked a better place. Your lady friend will be pleased, I’m sure.”

“Er, right. Thanks then.”

“Call me when you’re ready.” She gave him a parting wink, before turning her back on him and strolling back to the kitchen.

Dick settled back. 

The bell above the door chimed, as it swung inward and Barbara walked in. 

She was wearing jeans, a denim jacket over an olive green blouse. Her outfit was accented by a tiny silver chain hanging around her neck.

“Hey!” She smiled, sliding into the seat across from him. Her red hair was tied loosely at the back of her neck. “Beth’s, huh?”

“Um, yeah. I heard it’s supposed to be… magical.” He gave her a playful grin, remembering Wally’s so-called coffee shop magic. 

“Magical…” Barbara made a show of looking around, and then leaned forward, propping herself up on her elbow. “I think that’s the first I’ve heard Beth’s called magical.”

“But it is!”

Barbara jumped back, startled.

The waitress from before had returned and she stood, her face a bright tomato red.

“Sorry. Sorry,” she apologized hastily. “I was only coming to bring a menu for, uh, for you, ma’am.”

She quickly laid it down in front of her.

“No, it’s okay,” Barbara said, stopping her. “I’ve been here before. I know what I want. I’ll take a strawberry milkshake.”

“Make that a chocolate one for me,” Dick added.

The girl nodded, relieved that her intrusion wasn’t commented upon. “Right. Okay. Coming right up. Anything else?”

Barbara shook her head, ponytail swishing from side to side. “Nope,” she said.

Dick shook his head too when her questioning eyes found his and she hastily departed, promising that it wouldn’t take long.

“So,” Barbara folded her hands together. “Magical, huh? What brought that word to mind?”

“Ah, now that would be telling.”

“Please.” Barbara shook her head, amused. “If this is some ‘top secret’ secret, it’s a bad one.”

“Hey!” Dick protested, even as he laughed along with her.

The waitress brought their drinks, leaving quickly once they thanked her.

“We should tip her,” Barbara said, watching her as she bit her lip. She took a sip through her straw. “Because I’m pretty sure we just scared her off.”

Before Dick could actually answer her, she tapped her nail against the table. “So did Jason ever tell you where he was hiding last night?”

“After a long and lengthy interrogation,” Dick told her seriously, “I’m certain that that’s one secret he’ll be carrying to the grave.”

Barbara chewed on her lip, a knowing smirk in place. “You never actually asked him, did you?”

“No. Was I supposed to?”

Barbara shook her head, bemused. “No.”

“Good.” He sipped his milkshake. He sighed in satisfaction and leaned back. “You know, I don’t think words can capture just how great these milkshakes are.”

“The word ‘great’ certainly doesn’t,” Barbara remarked. 

“What about delicious?”

“Too much of an understatement,” Barbara said, folding her hands. “But it works.”   
Dick raised an eyebrow. “Someone’s picky,” he observed.

“Guess so,” she said, smirking around her straw.

She set the shake aside.

“Did you know I wanted to be an FBI agent once?” she asked suddenly.

“No,” Dick said, wondering where this line of questioning was heading. “You never told me.”

“It was around when I wanted to be a cop. My dad made it clear that was never going to happen. So I looked into the FBI.”

“And?” Dick asked.

Barbara shrugged. “I went to the FBI office in Gotham.” She gave a small laugh. “They told me I had some growing to do.”

“Um… wow.”  Dick still wasn’t sure what she was getting at so he settled for something neutral. 

Barbara noticed his confusion and laughed. “The point,” she said, “is that if I had joined the FBI, I might not have stayed in Gotham.” She reached out, placing her hand over his. “And I’m glad I chose to stay in Gotham.”   
For a moment, something warmed Dick’s heart…

… and then he flashed a cheeky grin. “Are you sure it’s me and not just a certain nighttime hobby? Because I’m certain that’d beat the FBI any day.”

“Shut up!” Barbara withdrew her hand, lightly slapping his, but she was grinning too. “‘But, you know, now that I think about it, you might be onto something there.”

“Hey!” Dick gasped in mock offense. He clutched a hand to his heart. “And here I was thinking this was all about me.”

Barbara rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Sorry to dent your ego,” she cracked.

Dick grabbed his milkshake, taking another sip. “You know, I’m not sure I’ll ever get over it,” he said.

“You’re a big boy,” Barbara said, grinning still as she finished her milkshake. “I’m sure you’ll get over it.”

...

They’d finished their drinks and paid, leaving a tip for the waitress.

“You giving any thought to your career?” Barbara slipped her hand in his as they continued their casual stroll down some of the nicer streets.

There was a small park across the street, complete with a duck pond (and ducks). 

Up close, the grounds were nearly always littered with some form of garbage-soft drinks, take out food containers-tossed there by inconsiderate passers-by.

City workers rarely had the time to clean the mess and, when they did, it was generally replaced within a week.

Still, from a distance, it was a nice sight.

Dick sighed. “Lucius has mentioned my becoming a part of WE someday. Maybe even the head. After all, I am Wayne’s heir and all that.”   
“But you don’t want to.” It wasn’t a question.

Dick shrugged. “Not really. I don’t think I’d be able to spend half my life in an office.”

“Then don’t,” Barbara said simply. “Choose your own path.”

A wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “That’s what I keep telling my… crap! This is supposed to be a date, Babs!”

She leaned against his shoulder. “Seems to be the perfect time to talk about the future to me,” she said.

Dick laughed then, wrapping his arm around his shoulder. “Alright then, miss.  Why don’t you talk?”

“Uh uh.” Barbara shook her head. “Keep talking, buster. We’re discussing you first.  _ Then  _ I get to tell you all about my boring college programs. So you don’t want to run WE. I’m sure you have  _ some _ idea about what you’re going to do.”

“I do,” Dick confessed. “I’ve just… never really told anyone. Truth is, I’m not that sure about it myself.”

Barbara was quiet. She wasn’t pushing him to continue. He had a feeling she was simply waiting for him to speak instead of expecting him to remain silent.

“I was thinking about joining the GCPD,” he said. “I know that’s what you really wanted to do and…”

“And a year ago, I might have been jealous,” Barbara said matter of factly. “But I’m happy where I am now.”

There was a clatter to their left, something knocking over a trash can.

Dick whipped around, feeling Barbara do the same.

He knew she could take care of herself, but it was almost on autopilot that he moved to stand just a little in front of her.

He stopped dead when he saw the cause of the commotion.

It was a dog. 

Dick almost laughed. They’d been startled by a dog. 

And a small one at that!

But then he sobered up.

It was on the streets, most likely starving.

Dick didn’t think it was a puppy. Not exactly. But it certainly didn’t look full grown.

The dog whimpered when it saw them. 

It had been trying to knock over a garbage can, unsuccessfully, to get at the food inside.

Now it backed away, clearly favoring one of its paws.

Dick wondered how it had been hurt.

Barbara had already stepped forward, crouching down lower to make herself less threatening.

“Hey there,” she said softly, holding out her hand.

The dog withdrew further from her, but at least it didn’t run away.

So it was wary, but not completely afraid.

Dick found himself wondering how long it had been on the streets. He didn’t think it had been that long. 

The dog had probably been abandoned. And maybe only for a week or so.

“Dick!” Barbara interrupted him. “Get him something. We’ll have an easier time getting him to trust us.”

“You sure it’s a he?” Dick joked.

Barbara sighed. “Dick…”

“Right.” Dick grinned and winked. “Don’t worry. Some fast food doggie chow will be coming right up.”

“Thank goodness.” Barbara rolled her eyes.

There was a Big Belly Burger only a couple blocks away. Ridiculously, Dick wondered what exactly they thought was appealing about their name of choice for their restaurant. 

Big Belly Burger.

It sounded like the kind of place you went to get fat.

His lips quirked up as he pushed open the door. That could make a great slogan. 

_ Big Belly Burger! The kind of place you go to get fat! _

He’d like to see how business went with a tagline like  _ that. _

The teenager at the counter looked at him like he was crazy when he ordered a burger and then proceeded to insist that  _ no _ , he didn’t want fries and a shake with that.

Apparently, everyone wanted the fries and shake with that.

He shook his head as he headed back out the door and jogged back to where he had left Barbra, clutching the paper sack in his hand.

He reached in, pulling out the burger and hastily unwrapping it, so he could place it in Barbara’s outstretched hand.

Barbara thanked him with a look, before breaking it in half and holding it out to the pup.

The dog skittered back several steps, before coming to a stop, nose twitching.

It took a tentative step forward.

“That’s it,” she said, keeping her voice low and soothing. “Come on, boy!”

It hesitated a split second longer, before hunger won out and it trotted forward, wolfing down the bit that was in her hand.

She wiped her hand off on her jeans.

The movement startled the dog and it tensed.

Barbara immediately stilled, letting her hand stay where it could see it.

The dog didn’t run though. It seemed to sense that there was more food to come and it stayed where it was, licking its chops and quivering.

He could see its ribs, Dick realized.

Wherever it had come from, it hadn’t had an easy life.

His heart ached in sympathy.

Barbara reached for another bit of food, holding it out to the puppy.

It accepted and soon, she had it close enough for her to run her hand gently down its bony back.

“So,” she looked up at Dick, “can we keep him?”


	5. Ace

“I must say, Master Dick,” Alfred observed fondly. “You’re developing your father’s penchant for picking up strays.”

Dick had called Alfred, asking if he would come pick them up and bring them back to the Manor. The man hadn’t shown an ounce of surprise to see them waiting for him with the shaking animal in their arms.

Although, Dick supposed, after Bruce had come home with first Dick and then Jason in tow, a puppy wasn’t going to catch Alfred by surprise.

Now the dog-they hadn’t been able to decide on a breed, Jason had insisted it was a lab, while Alfred had interjected with the idea that it was more than likely a mix of breeds- a mutt- was wrapped up in towels in front of the fire.

Barbara sat cross-legged on the carpet, the pup settled in her laps, while Jason leaned over, running his fingers over its head.

It was young-they didn’t think it could be more than six months old.

And they were going to keep it if they had anything to say on the matter.

Of course, Bruce hadn’t been informed yet, but Dick was certain that, with Alfred on their side, he wouldn’t be able to say no.

Dick wondered, not for the first time, what it had been doing on the streets.

But then, this was Gotham after all. Animals and, even more unfortunately, people ended up on the streets with alarming frequency. 

Jason was an example of that.

Someone had probably decided they couldn’t care for it any longer.

“I haven’t started bringing kids home yet, Alfred,” Dick said, though he smiled at the comparison. Maybe taking in strays was a Wayne thing.

“Yet being the operative word, young sir.” Alfred cast a glance between Dick and Barbara. “I hope Master Bruce was clear when he told you he was happy for you?”

Dick cleared his throat. “He was, but…” Dick dropped the sentence, sure that there was no proper way to tell Alfred that he thought they were making a huge deal out of it.

He was happy, yes, but it was… awkward, he decided, to have your life poked and prodded.

“When Master Bruce was your age,” Alfred said, “I wanted more than anything for him to find a nice girl and then settle down when he was finished school. Instead, he was traveling the world on a hero’s quest to save Gotham.” Alfred sighed. “I thought it was foolish of course, but Master Bruce was stubborn.”

“I think we all have that in common,” Dick observed.

Alfred smiled fondly. “Indeed.” He looked at Dick. “I hope you understand that I am proud of you all, Master Dick. And that I am very happy for you.”

“I’d never imagine you were anything else,” Dick said honestly. 

Dick sat down next to them, crossing his legs.

The dog shifted in Barbara’s lap, giving a small whine.

Jason resumed petting its head.

“Do we have a name for it yet?” Dick asked.

“Ace,” Jason said immediately.

“No,” Barbara said, directing a glare Jason’s way, “we haven’t.”

“It’s Ace,” Jason said again. 

“No, it’s not,” Barbara insisted.

“Okay,” Jason challenged, “do you have a better name?”   
Barbara’s mouth snapped shut.

“I knew it!” 

“You don’t just think up a name in several seconds!”

“What’s wrong with Ace?” Dick wanted to know.

“Dick!” Barbara gaped at him, appalled. “How could you?” 

Jason draped his arm around him. “I knew you’d take my side. Thanks, bro!”

“Don’t get used to it.” 

Dick shoved him off good-naturedly and Jason grinned.

Barbara crossed her arms. “It’s non-creative.”

“I think it should be Ace,” Jason pressed.

“Jason…” Barbara rolled her eyes.

“Oh, come on, Babs! Please! It’s not like you have a better name handy!”

“Hey, I found him,” Barbara said, shaking her head. “Shouldn’t I be the one who gets to name him?”

“Please?”

He looked at her with wide eyes and she groaned.

Someone really had to tell him that those only worked when you were five.

“You know what? Fine. If you want the stupid name, you can have the stupid name!” Barbara flicked a lock of hair over her ear and her eyes flashed momentarily, but she gave him a playful grin.

“Ha!” Jason cheered, pumping his fist in the air, triumphant to the end. “Yes! I win!”

“Sheesh. Don’t rub it in, alright? I can still change my mind, can’t I?” 

They fashioned a dog bed out of old towels and a basket Alfred brought down for them.

Seeing as Barbara didn’t think her father would be too thrilled to have a dog suddenly moving in with them, Ace would be staying at the Manor.

(“Is there anything you guys don’t have?” Barbara had whispered as the boys folded the towels, laying them neatly in the basket and moving the basket to a spot beside the fireplace.

“Nope,” Jason had answered smugly.)

The puppy was reluctant to leave Barbara’s lap, to Jason’s disappointment. 

Barbara smirked, triumphant in her own turn.

Jason scrunched up his nose at her.

Dick reached over and scratched the pup behind the ears. The small dog licked his hand when Dick moved it underneath his chin, rubbing him there.

“Do you know who left him on the streets?” Jason asked, leaning over them to take another look at the dog.

“No.” Barbara shook her head. “There’s no way to know.”   
Jason frowned, but didn’t say anything more.

Dick knew he was unhappy about the way the dog had simply been abandoned on the streets to die.

They all were, but it was something that, unfortunately, happened all too often. To animals and humans alike.

There was nothing they could do except do the best they could to care for this lucky one that had wound up in their path.

“He’s going to be great,” Jason said. 

“A Bat-hound,” Barbara agreed.

The three of them looked at each other.

And then they burst out laughing.

Bruce did not find it funny.

He stared at them for a long time, looking very well like he might just boot all four of them out of the house, at least for the night.

Dick and Barbara glanced at each other, trying desperately to hide their grins. 

Jason didn’t bother hiding his, smirking openly with his arms crossed.

“They brought a dog home, Alfred.” Bruce doesn’t take his eyes off the dog in Barbara’s lap.

“Yes, sir.” Alfred’s tone does nothing to hide his amusement. “They did.”

“A dog,” he repeated. Turning to the man beside him, he asked, “When did I say they could bring a dog home?”

“You didn’t.” Alfred’s eyebrow raises in a perfect arch. “But if I recall correctly, you never did say that they  _ couldn’t.” _

Bruce frowned. “We don’t have time for a dog.”   
“No,” Alfred corrected, “ _ you _ feel you don’t have time for a dog.” He cast another look at the three young people. “And what would you suggest? That they put him back out on the street?”

“Of course not, but… Leslie?”   
“Has enough on her hands already.”

“But the pound is out of the question?”

“Absolutely.”

Bruce sighed, rubbing his thumb and forefinger down the bridge of his nose.

“Take a closer look, sir,” Alfred said. “I dare say you might even find yourself liking the pup. Despite all your misgivings.”

Bruce shot him a half-hearted glare.

Alfred remained unmoved. “Well, go on, sir,” he prompted. “Heaven forbid, the day we have to say that the Dark Knight allowed himself to be intimidated by a mere puppy.”

Bruce glared harder, but Alfred had won. And he knew it.

Resigned to his fate, he stepped into the room.

Almost immediately, he was met with three equally triumphant smirks.

He expected it from Jason.

He’d like to have at least been able to think Dick and Barbara were above that.

Letting out a sigh, he settled himself in the armchair and leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees.

“Did you name it?” he asked. 

“Ace!” Jason spoke quickly.

“Ace?” Bruce furrowed his brows in confusion.

“You think it’s stupid too?” Jason crossed his arms, staring at him defiantly.

“Actually,” Bruce said tiredly, “I’m just glad it’s not Bat-dog.”

The three share a look. 

And then Dick spoke. “We actually thought he was more of a Bat-hound.”

Bruce blinked at them. “You actually…” He stopped. “Nevermind. I don’t want to know.”

“So we can keep him right?” Jason’s face told him that the boy had no doubt they would be keeping him anyway.

Bruce frowned at him, before directing his attention to Barbara. “Your dad won’t…?”   
“Sorry.” Barbara shrugged. “My dad has a strict anti-pet rule at home.”

Bruce was starting to think maybe he should have put one of those in place too.

He observed the dog some more.

“He’s just sleeping.”

Barbara looked back down at the pup. “He’s been out on the streets for who knows how long. He’s probably just happy he can sleep with both eyes shut for a change.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've adored this couple for quite some time and decided it was time to actually... write something about them and stop dreaming.  
> Anyways, if there's any trouble with the format, I apologize. I'm still getting used to everything.


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